


Dear Lacey

by afewmistakesago



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, No Curse AU, No Magic AU, Office setting au, double identity, reporter belle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4975600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewmistakesago/pseuds/afewmistakesago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle French is a part-time librarian who’s picked up writing for The Storybrooke Mirror’s advice column under the name of Lacey Rife. Lacey is everything Belle is not, and Belle struggles to figure out which parts of her are Lacey, and which parts are Belle. When Regina threatens the existence of the column, help comes from the unlikely ally of Mr. Gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dear Abby?

Belle French had never intended for Lacey Rife to become a town controversy, it had just seemed to happen over the course of time. Belle had created Lacey, giving her flaws and a distinctive voice. Writing as Lacey was empowering, a change in pace from the day-to-day life of a part time librarian. If the people of Storybrooke weren't so damn bored and drama-hungry, the Dear Lacey column wouldn't have skyrocketed. She could easily blame them, but it was her own fault for listening to Lacey's voice in her head.

 

It grew difficult to distinguish Lacey's voice from her own. Lacey was scandalous, the kind of girl who would wear sheer tops with a bright pink bra, Cleopatra eyeliner, and entertain a different boyfriend for every night of the week. Lacey wrote exactly what she thought. Belle was mild-mannered, a courteous citizen who paid her taxes and kept to herself, except for a few carefully selected friends.

 

She had started writing as Lacey as a way to make extra money. Sidney Glass, the editor of The Storybrooke Mirror, often came in the library to "research" - which meant try to flirt with her sole coworker, Tiana. Tiana Frogg was a middle-aged African American woman with a kind smile and a constant determination to remain positive. Belle and Tiana made a good team, and Tiana carefully deflected Sidney's near constant invitations for lunch.

 

One afternoon, Belle slid next to Sidney, who was sitting at his regular table at the library. "I saw in the paper that you're looking for writers?" she asked. He gazed over his glasses at her, a kind look in his eyes. "Yes, just periodic pieces about current events in Storybrooke,” he replied.

 

"I can do it," Belle said confidently, and he didn't seem surprised at all, taking her for her word and shaking on an agreement to meet at the paper's headquarters the next day. Belle wasn’t passionate about writing, but she could write well enough to be published in the small paper. She did write the occasionally news piece, but a box in Sidney's office caught her eye.

 

"Dear Abby?" she read aloud, picking up a heavy envelope.

 

"People write in requesting advice all the time, but we've never had an advice column," Sidney explained, scratching his head as Belle rustled through the pile of letters.

 

"If you want to take a shot at it..." he said hopefully, his voice ending in a questioning tone.

 

"I'll take these home," Belle said with a small smile. "And the article about the mayor's plans for the park will be written by next Tuesday."

 

"Next Monday."

 

"Fine," Belle said, seeing the smile on Sidney's face. He wasn't a difficult boss by any means. He was a good man, always complimenting Belle on her writing and giving criticism in a positive manner.

 

-

 

Belle poured through the letters sent to this all-knowing Abby, with complaints as silly as an annoying mother-in-law, to the complexity of a situation involving neighbors, a garden gnome, and a house party with too much alcohol.

 

It was the letters about relationships that drew her in. The sad ones, the loves that couldn't be, the strain of lovers torn apart by distance or familial disapproval. Belle was one for romance novels, but she preferred the kind for happy endings.

 

She had begun to wonder where her happy ending was. For a long time, she'd harbored a crush on Mr. Gold, the town's most secretive citizen. She'd long wondered what he kept hidden under his suits, dreamed of what his lips might taste like if they ever clashed against hers - but years of silent wanting proved meaningless.

 

Belle had dabbled a while for a rather unimpressive man named Keith, who was good at the physical side of a relationship, but had very little to say intellectually. After Keith, a man named Will had briefly moved to town. He had similar features to Mr. Gold, minus a few years and the long hair, but Belle had found out he was still married after a bit of social media stalking. The relationship ended before it could even begin. She didn't want to be The Other Woman.

 

Selecting a few letters that she felt she could respond to adequately, Belle realized she would need a pseudonym. Nobody would take relationship advice from the woman who read to their children on Monday evenings and kindly reminded them about overdue fees. Her advice-giving muse needed a name that commanded respect - the kind of name that was immediately sexy. Someone who would give you love advice, and you would listen. Something like Veronica, or Gwyneth - or Lacey.

 

She would be Lacey. The name rolled off her tongue easily when she said it aloud to herself, flirty and intriguing. From there, she clicked on articles on the Internet before finding a senator with the last name of 'Rife'. Lacey Rife was born, and all she needed was Sidney Glass' approval to live.

 

Sidney was hesitant, originally. He didn't think the mayor would approve of a relationship advice column. Belle pleaded that she would keep her advice PG-13, just suggestive enough to draw in readers who were tired of the articles that seemed to bleed together due to the conservative nature of the newspaper. Sidney finally agreed, removing a section of old advertisements to run two letters answered by Lacey and an introductory letter.

 

-

 _The Storybrooke Mirror_ Presents: **Dear Lacey**

Readers, write in to us with your relationship needs. No problem is too large or too small for Lacey Rife to answer! Lacey is ready and willing to give advice. Below, find an example of a letter previously sent to The Storybrooke Mirror and an example of Lacey’s reply. *Not all letters will be published, all letters sent will become property of The Storybrooke Mirror, any names used will be changed for confidentiality*

 

 **Dear Lacey** ,

I was seperated for my husband for a while. We reconnected, and I thought things were going well. However, I recently found out he’s cheating on me. I don’t know the woman as anything more than an acquaintance, but I am livid! She knows he’s married to me and that we were working on things. How do I tell him I know he’s cheating on me? Do I confront her?

-Soon-to-be Divorced

 

 **Dear Soon-to-be Divorced** ,

First things first, I’m sorry your husband is cheating. He sounds like a scumbag, and you deserve better. Second things second, f*ck him. (Figurative, not literal!) If you want to go a subtle route, I would tell him over dinner. Or, simply leave divorce papers on something he’ll see during his morning routine. That would less dramatic, but if you want to make a scene - I always do - confront the other woman. Slap her, if you have to. Let her know that what did was wrong and that you’re angry about it. You should be angry about it.

Your Friend,

Lacey Rife

  
  


**Dear Lacey** ,

I’m in love with two people at once. The only problem is, my first true love died when I was seventeen. I feel like his ghost follows me, I can’t rid myself of the feelings. Nearly fifteen years later, I find myself in a relationship. I feel guilty somehow, like I’m betraying my first love.

From,

Confused and Enamored

 

 **Dear Confused and Enamored** ,

It’s tricky when someone we love dies, because our feelings don’t die with them. However, fifteen year is a long time to harbor such feelings. I suggest visiting Dr. Hopper, who is a professional capable of helping you move on. It’s not fair to your current partner to be dragged down by someone who isn’t there. Live in the present, not the past. If you truly love this new partner, I’m sure your old partner would be happy that you’re happy. You have to let yourself be happy. Besides, you can’t kiss a ghost.

Your Friend,

Lacey Rife


	2. Friends and Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's rocky relationship with Regina is established, and Belle tells Ruby that she's Lacey as the column grows in popularity.

The mayor and Belle had never had a good relationship, and Belle had sworn Sidney to secrecy about her identity upon printing. The drama with the mayor had all begun when Henry Mills, the mayor's adoptive son, had come to the library for a Monday reading. He was the only one to show up, so Belle let him pick the book from their children's shelf. A child his age should be able to read from the distance she was away from him, but when she turned the page to face him, he couldn't. Henry squinted and read something opposite of what was largely printed on the page, and Belle scooted closer. Henry's eyes relaxed and he read the fairy-tale aloud.

 

When Mayor Mills arrived to pick up her son, Belle had pulled her aside. The severe woman and Belle didn’t have many interactions aside from the budget meetings Tiana and Belle alternately attended. Mills often had bad news for them at those meetings, and Belle didn’t exactly associate her with warm-fuzzy feelings. "I think Henry needs glasses," Belle whispered, motioning towards the young boy. He was reading a sign on the wall and standing mere inches away from it.

 

Mayor Mills looked up sharply from her phone. "Beg your pardon, Ms. French?"

 

"He can't read from far away. Maybe you haven't noticed, but I really do think he needs glasses," Belle said, and Mayor Mills' eyes grew wide, her anger obvious. "A lot of kids need glasses, it's not really something to be upset about,” Belle said, trying to soothe whatever nerve she had hit.

 

"Are you saying I don't know my own son?" Mills whispered. "Are you trying to insinuate something about my parenting?"

 

"Of course not!" Belle said, affronted. She hadn't realized Mills was so sensitive about her parenting skills, but it was a clear insecurity.

 

Mayor Mills walked over to Henry, grabbing his hand and ushering him out the door. Before she left, she turned to face Belle. "Keep in mind who signs your checks, Ms. French," Mills whispered, "I can have you on the streets in no time."

 

Mr. Gold had just walked into the library, passing by the pair of them. He stopped next to Regina, lowering his colored sunglasses. "I believe putting people in the streets is my job, Regina," he mentioned lightly.

 

"I'll be looking at the town charter again," he continued, and Belle wasn't surprised. Mr. Gold came in every now and again to look at the document, normally to fix some squabble with a renter, or to annoy Mills with some zoning law she was violating somehow. Belle needed to remember she was going to offer to make him a copy - he was the only one who looked at the town papers, anyway. Maybe _that_ would be her excuse the next time she felt like stopping by his pawn shop. The mayor sighed and walked off with Henry, her quick steps and high heels giving her exit a dramatic flair.

 

The rest of the day has proceeded as normal, and Belle didn't make any comments to the mayor when Henry came in wearing new glasses the next Monday and remarking that "everything is so clear!". It had always been a careful dance since then, her interactions with the mayor. She needed the job, as low paying as it was. Helping children learn to love to read was a joy, as was having access to new releases. She was meant to be a librarian, not a writer.

 

-

Lacey's first column was a quiet success. From her stool at Granny's diner, Belle could see people reading the article, turning the paper to show whoever they were with. People wanted to know who Lacey really was, but Sidney was tight-lipped for once in his life. He finally had something marketable to boost sales, and the mailbox for Lacey grew heavy with letters.

 

After a few more columns, Belle even received a doodle of Lacey from one talented a reader, a cartoon of a tall, curvy woman in a short sparkly dress with long, shampoo-commercial worthy hair and a temptress grin. "Let Lacey Rife Advise your Love Life," the speech bubbly from her mouth read. Belle began to picture herself this way when she answered questioned, giving Lacey a deeper voice in her head. Slower, more precise. Belle tended to be quiet, to speak when spoken to, but Lacey was bold where Belle was quiet.

 

At the library, she spotted parent’s reading the column from the stack of newspapers they kept at the check-out desk. As she helped Wendy Darling find “the Magic School Bus book with the blue cover” and “the Junie B. Jones book with the brother”, she kept one eye on Jane Darling, who was biting her lip and reading furiously, like she was trying to read through the lines of the article.

 

The only person who knew about the second person living in Belle's mind besides Sidney was Belle's friend Ruby. Even her father didn't know it was her - Belle had felt herself redden with embarrassment when she went over for Sunday brunch and saw the page open on his coffee table.

 

One Friday night after going to see some old science fiction movies at the local theatre, Ruby had pulled out her copy of the newspaper as she lounged on Belle's couch. "Who do you think is writing this Lacey thing?" she asked, thumbing through the paper to reach the advice column.

 

Belle's stomach twisted. "I don't know - do you like it?"

 

Ruby snorted. "Hell yeah. She seems cool. This is the most exciting thing the Mirror has ever printed. What if it's like... Mary Margaret Blanchard?" Ruby suggested, giggling at the thought. Belle and Ruby were both friends with Mary Margaret, but she was even more lenient and quiet then Belle herself.

 

"C'mon, Belle, you write for the paper sometimes! You should know!" Ruby insisted. Belle was surprised Ruby had even noticed her name on the byline on the very non-controversial article on the park.

 

Belle took a deep breath, feeling brave. The Lacey inside her head reminded her that the worst that could happen was that Ruby wouldn't believe her. "I actually know who writes it..."

 

**Dear Lacey,**

I just had my heart broken for the first time. What do I do? It wasn’t even unexpected. I knew there was someone else, but it still hurts so bad. I feel like I’ll never be the same.

Sincerely,

Can’t Leave My Bed

 

 **Dear Can’t Leave My Bed** ,

Love yourself. Mentally and physically, if you get what I’m saying. Wear your highest heels, and step on the heart of any man who trespasses you. Cut your hair. Dye it a crazy color. Eat lots of comfort foods. Watch old, cheesy romantic comedies. Then, after a few days of moping, get out of bed and remind yourself that you’re beautiful and worthy of love. You are so full of potential, and whoever left you does not deserve you. You will survive and be stronger for it.

Your friend,

Lacey Rife


	3. The Necklace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle lies to Mr. Gold, and he figures it out. Regina has decided she doesn't like the Dear Lacey column.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is longer than I thought it would be.

For questions that were trickier, Belle turned to the Internet. It was like some of these people had never heard of Google. For someone who hadn't dated recently, she had to stretch her memory to recall what it was like to be as enamored as some of these people claimed to be. The advice column ran only once or twice a month, and it was time again for Belle to pick the ones should we reply to. Lacey was buzzing around in her head, clever lines and sassy hints rolling around in her thoughts.

 

Once a month, when she was trying to write as Lacey and her muse refused to talk, Belle decided to become her. She put volume spray in her hair, messing around with her thick hair until it was like the models in the shampoo commercials. She applied a liberal amount of eyeliner, wearing the only red lipstick she owned. She stared at herself in the mirror, feeling empowered, knocking back a few drinks as she quickly typed whatever popped into her mind. She ditched her librarian wardrobe for the shortest skirt that was normally stowed in the back of her closet and a midriff-revealing top. Belle felt sexy when she wasn’t herself. Was it wrong that she looked in the mirror and loved what she saw? Her father would be ashamed if he ever saw her like this. Her father would be ashamed if he knew she was Lacey.

 

Ruby had come over once when she was dressed like this, and simply laughed and hugged her friend.  It was Belle's own little dirty secret, and she didn't know what to do with the second voice growing stronger in her brain.

 

Lacey was the desire of every man. Lacey knew how to have a good time, how to drink with the boys. She knew people thought Lacey had to be attractive - when Belle was out with her friends, she'd heard the electrician Leroy ask if anyone had ever seen someone who must get around as much as Lacey must.

 

She smirked to herself when he said that, and Ruby caught her eye. Belle hadn't slept with anyone at all recently, a void in her activities she just didn't have time to fulfill. It wasn't like Storybrooke's single men were plentiful.

 

The only man she had a slight interest in seemed to think she was invisible. With Lacey in her brain, Belle's wardrobe began to shift, her shirts growing more see-through (Lacey's idea) and her heels gaining height (Belle's idea - it was helpful for tall shelves at the library). Lacey was simply an extension of herself, and she had to remind herself of that. Belle was Lacey. Lacey was Belle.

 

In recent days at the library, she would lean across the counter when Mr. Gold came in, but he didn't seem to care about the view she was giving him at all. Nor did he seem to notice her carefully worded questions, just shrugging when she asked him about his weekend plans. He seemed to deflect her attention with a firm coolness, like he held the opinion that he was somehow better than her. It was only at the library, though, only in public. On some moments in their exchanges - when nobody else was around -, it seemed like he genuinely liked her, but those opportunities were rare and few between.

 

A week ago, Belle had visited Mr. Gold’s pawn shop. It was her off day, her father didn’t need help at the flower shop, Ruby was working, and there was nothing to do. Nothing, except of course, bother the town’s sole lawyer and pawn shop owner. There never seemed to be many patrons, but she assumed Gold liked it that way. Belle entered slowly, letting the door bell jingle to alert him of her presence. His shop always looked the same - cluttered but somehow organized, and it smelled like the pages of an old book to her. Belle could sometimes get him to tell her about the wondrous objects he’d collected, but she had no idea why items so precious had ended up in Storybrooke, Maine, of all places.

 

Belle felt his eyes land on her questioningly, and she meandered toward a far counter, slowly turning a display of jewelry. He took a step towards her, away from the safe haven of hiding behind his cash register, leaning on his cane.

       

“Those are expensive, dearie,” he said, tilting his head at the display. It didn’t come off as unkind, but Belle felt slightly pathetic that he knew what she could and couldn’t afford.

 

“Are they?” she returned, picking up a necklace with a small emerald center.

 

“That’s a one-of-a-kind,” he said gently, picking it off her fingers and returning it to the display. “Perhaps I could interest you in something similar?”

 

Belle bit her lip, squinting her eyes a bit. She wasn’t sure if she should try to barter with him, leave, or see whatever else he had. Instead of replying, she just shrugged, and he seemed to suppress a smile as he returned it to it’s place. Gold walked to a drawer, pulling out a jewelry box. “Shopping for someone in particular?”

 

“Ruby,” Belle replied instantaneously. It was a lie, but she thought she could hide it. Ruby’s birthday wasn’t for months. “She’s, uh, the waitress at Gran-”

 

“I very well know who she is, Ms. French,” he said, but he sounded more amused than annoyed. “This will compliment her affinity for the color red.”

 

Gold produced a delicate looking simple silver chain, dangling on his fingers for Belle to admire. “I’m willing to give it to you for half-price,” he said, offering her an unexpected toothy smile. Belle felt herself blush, resting her hands on the counter separating them. She just wanted to be closer to him. “Why’s that, Mr. Gold?” she asked, feeling cheeky. Maybe he’d tell her it was because he was madly in love with her, that he could no longer live without her and -

 

“I have three more just like it in the back,” he said with a nod to the door at the back of the shop, “and nobody seems to be shopping for jewelry here, quite honestly.”

 

_“Probably because people are afraid of you and Amazon exists,”_ she wanted to reply, though his fearsome nature only made him more intriguing.

 

Belle laughed for a moment, an awkward sound in the stillness of his shop. He seemed to be staring at her, and when it went on for a second too long, he shook his head quickly, returning to his cash register and muttering something about needing to count the drawer. She thanked him for the discount, exiting the shop, finding it had only been minutes she was inside, but it had felt like hours. The electricity flowed in her fingertips from when their hands had touched in exchanging the bag, her fluttering heartbeat still returning to normal.

 

-

 

Belle tapped the desk with her acrylic nails (Lacey's idea), the sound satisfying her. They were a safe light blue color (Belle's idea). Lacey would wear sparkly, daring colors with wild designs. Belle would not. Today was a particularly drowsy day, and Belle looked around at the nearly empty front room. The only person in the library was a sweet, elderly man named Marco, and he was slowly typing on one of their patron-use computers. Belle opened her drawer, pulling out a few envelopes. Lacey was ready to advise.

 

It had become a personal game to try and figure out who had sent the letter. Despite her quiet nature, Belle was, as Ruby described her, "perceptive as fuck”. Just as she began to write, "Dear Lonely at Night," picturing Sheriff Graham, someone cleared their throat from in front of her desk. Mr. Gold was looking at her expectantly, dressed in an impeccable suit and leaning his weight onto his cane.

 

"Ms. French," Mr. Gold said. "Would you happen to keep old newspapers?"

 

"Yes," Belle said, rising from her chair and shoving her notebook and letters to the side so he wouldn't be able to see them.

 

She showed him to the shelf of the library where newspapers from years ago to current day were stored. Sidney always made sure they had the latest issue. Nobody really came looking for old newspapers, but maybe Mr. Gold was doing one of his ever-secretive projects.

 

Mr. Gold began to thumb through the stacks, and when Belle turned to leave, he began to talk. "Seems like that Lacey always has a lot to say," he said, his voice cool.

 

Belle bit her lip, turning around and leaning on the cabinet she was next to. "Big reader of her column, are you?"

 

"Hardly, Ms. French. I don't read this drivel," he said, opening a paper to one of the first issues Lacey had been in. "I just want to see what the fuss is about."

 

Her heart began to pound. "The - fuss?"

 

"People are protesting outside Sidney's office," he explained. "Don't want her encouraging adultery and other such sins in our precious town. Sheriff Graham is out there, mumbling something about the freedom of speech and the freedom of the press."

 

Belle frowned. "Adultery? I - she's never encouraged that."

 

"It's suggestive enough, apparently," Mr. Gold said, his eyebrows raising as he scanned articles. "I see you've written for the paper before. Do you know this - Lacey?"

 

She couldn't deny that she'd imagined him saying the name before. But, in her mind, he was always a bit more... excited to see her. She shoved the thought out of her mind - she would always be Ms. French to him. Lacey wasn't real.

 

"No clue who she is," Belle said, smiling through her lie. If Mr. Gold could read through her, he wasn't letting on. He went back to looking through the papers. Belle's mind was racing, and she began to edge back towards her desk to see if Sidney had called her. As of the moment, he hadn't, but if people were truly protesting, it might be time to lay Lacey in a grave.

 

Mr. Gold came by her desk later, a few newspapers under his arm. "You don't mind if I -"

 

Belle smiled. "Not at all."

 

She fully expected him to leave, and she resettled herself at her desk, but found he hadn’t turned towards the exit yet. His eyes were resting just below her head, and she glanced down, realizing she’d worn silver the necklace she’d told him was for Ruby. _Damn._

 

“Ms. Lucas didn’t like my choice?” he said, when she looked back up to meet his eyes. His eyebrows were raised, and she wasn’t sure if he thought it was funny or if he was annoyed.

 

Belle shook her head immediately, “No!” she said, a bit too loudly. “No, Mr. Gold, nothing like that. It’s just that -”

 

“It wasn’t her birthday?” he asked, finishing her sentence. She’d been caught in a lie. “I do recall facts about people, Ms. French. Her birthday party was very loud, and it hasn't been a year yet since that obnoxious night.”

 

It had been loud. Belle had been there. Mr. Gold knew she had lied.

 

“I guess I just forgot,” Belle said, feeling suddenly very light-headed, and like she could cry from embarrassment.

 

Mr. Gold nodded. “Mmhmm,” he said, seemingly thinking something over. He was on his way, gone just as quick as he'd arrived, and Belle's heart finally returned to a normal rate. She buried her head in her hands, cursing his eyes for the things they did to her.

 

Tiana came in a few minutes later, ready to take on the night shift. Belle shoved her letters, notebook, and pen into her over-sized purse, ready to stop by the newspaper office and figure out what the hell was going on.

 

**Dear Lacey,**

I’m going to be upfront with you, sister. I’m probably one of your only male readers. I like that you’re so in-your-face. I have a problem. I’ve never been one for relationships  - never too sentimental. Of course, I now find myself in love with a woman. The issue is that we can never be together. She’s a nun. What’s even crazier is that I think she might feel the same way. What do I do?

From,

**Guilty in the Church House**

 

**Dear Guilty in the Church House,**

Well, GITCH, you’re going straight to hell.

*insert cricket sound*

I’m kidding! First of all, thank you for complimenting me. I love my readers, really. You’re all darling. I’m sorry love has found you in the most inopportune of places. If your lady love is a nun, and she is dedicated, I’m afraid you’ll never get to be together. It’s the rules. Sometimes life does suck. However, you could ask if she feels that same way you do, you could talk to Mother Superior about getting her right on outta that church. I’m wishing you all my best,

**Lacey Rife**

 

 


End file.
